


My Anklet, Your Shoulder

by QueenoftheWallflowers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anklet, Bellamy in a blue Henley and grey sweatpants, Birthday Smut, Clarke is really horny, Clothed Sex, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Cock Warming, Netflix and Chill, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, floor sex that going's to mess up Bellamy's old man back, masturbation in the bathtub, slight mentions of a size kink, well they are wearing their shirts but not pants as they get it on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheWallflowers/pseuds/QueenoftheWallflowers
Summary: Bellamy buys Clarke an anklet for her birthday and Clarke makes sure that anklet dangles over his shoulder later.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 176





	My Anklet, Your Shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> Should out to K for the name of the title and G for the prompt

Bellamy had never been the type to buy gifts. Not because he didn't care or because he didn't have the money for it but because he preferred to show his love in others ways. 

He takes care of Octavia- driving her to soccer practice, signing her permission slips, helping her move into her dorm. He helps Raven out in her mechanic shop- bringing her food, sometimes handing her tools, others times working on the car themselves. He cooks with Murphy, sometimes actually cooking with him, other times sitting there in silence as Murphy cooks for him. He hugs Clarke whenever she needs a hug, (one time when she was in high school he drove back home- a three hours drive to simply give her a hug after she found out that her girlfriend was cheating on her). He knits his mother a sweater and joins her arts and crafts club that meets once a month bringing Clarke's famous muffins and sometimes Clarke much to the delight of his mother and her friends. He made Gabriel a nightstand and a new dining room table (after breaking his old one during a very fun weekend). 

He's in the store browsing in the clearance aisle when he sees it. 

It screams Clarke.

His mind immediately started thinking about what he would need for it.

A small silver chain, some blue stones to match her eyes and of course the crown charm currently in his hand. 

It was perfect and without even thinking twice he placed it in his basket. 

He spends a hour in the jewelrey aisle, looking at all the blue stones, deciding on the perfect beads.

He later spends hours on his gift, hunched over in his chair, pliers in his hand, glasses sliding down his nose, the small delicate chain in his hand, wrapping wire around and through the blue stones, connecting them, connecting the charm to the chain, the bright light from his lamp hurting his eyes but the end result is worth it. 

Bellamy can picture her face when she sees it, blue eyes bright, pink lips curved into a smile, the mole on the top of her lip just begging for a kiss. He can pretty much feel her arms around him, her nose nuzzling the spot, her spot on his neck, when she hugs him the way he knows she will when she sees the anklet.

He craws into bed exhausted but happy, the anklet nestled in a small box, blue ribbon tied around the box ready for Clarke’s birthday in a few short days. 

* * *

After years of galas and fancy dinners filled with people Clarke doesn't know or really care for, Clarke prefer smaller more intimate celebrations. 

She likes stay-at-home dinners, their bar crawls in college, their sleepovers camped out on her floor. She liked coming home to find her apartment full of the people she loves to celebrate her. The pictures they take end up on instagram and snapchat not on the front page of Polis gossip rags. Her dress code ranges from a little black dress and a pair of red heels to Bellamy's hoodies and some pajama shorts, her days of wearing prom dresses for every birthday are gone.

This year, her birthday is on a Thursday so the group makes plans to celebrate on Friday. It’s going to be a movie at a drive through and cake and some bottles of moonshine. Small and sweet, cozy, it's going to be a good time.

But she and Bellamy will be celebrating on Thursday just the two of them.

And she's not going to lie, she’s more excited to celebrate with her roommate and best friend than for the movie with her friends.

But that’s probably because she’s been in love with him for the past three years, maybe a bit longer if you asked her past partners.

She and Bellamy have known each other for more than half their lives. His younger sister Octavia was her best friend in middle school and he had always been there- making them snacks and braiding Clarke's hair, typing her shoes. Then as she got older she started to spend more time with Bellamy- he would drive them around and Clarke found herself wanting to stay in the car and talk and not go on dates with Octavia's date's friend. He had been her prom date when she found out about Finn's other girlfriend, he had been the first person she had come out to as bisexual and he had wrapped an around her and had whispered that he was too. When she went to college, her freshman roommate was a girl name Echo and she was a nightmare. She was looking for a new place to live before the semester was over and well Bellamy was looking for a roommate.

It seemed perfect.

That was six years ago.

Moving in with her best friend was the best decision she had made, they had movie nights and there was always a constant supply for hot chocolate in the kitchen, they would curl up on the couch, his head in her lap as he read, her fingers in her hair. She would wake up to find him making her a blueberry and banana smoothie and they would spend the weekends at the art museums or the history museums like the nerds they are. Octavia and the rest of their friend group would joke about how domestic they were and how they were practically married. She would roll her eyes and try not to blush as Bellamy presses a kiss to her cheek, a teasing grin on his face

That had all changed one day though.

She had woken up one morning and realized she was in love with him. She wanted to kiss the scar above his lip and count the freckles on his cheeks. She wanted to hold his hand in the grocery store and suck his cock at the back of the movie theater. She wanted to wake up with his head in between her legs and go to bed with his arms around her. She wanted to wear his clothes and not worry about having to wear pants, or panties. She wanted to curl up in his lap and never have to leave. She wanted to have his babies and grow old together, sitting on rocking chairs with him. 

She wanted the whole soulmate package deal with Bellamy Blake.

But she had settled for being his best friend, she couldn't lose him. 

Didn't want to even consider the idea ever.

They were Bellamy and Clarke. 

* * *

Bellamy hits the grocery store on her birthday, having plans to cook for her. He got out of work earlier (his boss under the impression that he’s cooking his girlfriend dinner for her birthday and well he didn’t bother to correct Sinclair, who apparently was a closet romantic ) and wanted to get a head start on their meal.

Clarke’s at work when he gets home and he’s quick to start cooking. He connects his phone to the sound system and the familiar sounds of Taylor Swift fills the kitchen. He hums to himself as he works, his hips swaying gently as he chops vegetables and measures spices. He knows the recipe by heart, it’s one of his mother’s and he has fond memories of her teaching him. One day he hopes to pass on the recipe to his child or to his future niece or nephew if Octavia decides to have kids. 

Clarke can smell Bellamy’s cooking before she even reaches the door. It makes her mouth water and she fumbles with her keys. He doesn’t hear her enter and she sheds her jacket and heads to the kitchen to find Bellamy stirring something, the blue and white apron they got from Vera Kane looking way too good on his body.

She would never forget the shade of red her face turned when they opened the gift to reveal matching couple aprons, Vera looking at them, a mischievous look in her eyes. Clarke had done nothing but sit there, blue and white fabric in her hand, cheeks pink, the antlers on her head crooked. Bellamy had thanked the older woman, hugging her and pressing a kiss to her wrinkled cheek, his own antlers nearly falling off as Vera hugged him. The next year they sent out their Christmas cards a picture of them in their matching aprons front and center.  
(The cards had resulted in many interesting phone calls from her mother, and Lexa of all people.)

She makes her way to the stove, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He puts the spoon down and turns around to hug her.

“Happy Birthday Princess.”

Clarke laughs as he pulls away to bop her nose, her arms around his hips, looking up at him

“You didn’t have to cook you know. I would have been happy with takeout.”

“Special girl. Special day. Special meal.”

She cups his face as he looks at her fondly and she fights the urge to kiss him. It would be very easy, she would just need to rise to her tiptoes and kiss him softly, letting her fingers tug on his curls which she’s sure would make him moan into her mouth. She likes the idea of Bellamy kissing her, of him moaning into her mouth.

“Go get changed.” 

Bellamy’s eyes are dark and his voice is deeper and he steps back, needing to put distance between them after seeing the soft, fond look on Clarke's face.

“Go shower, take a nap, do whatever you want to do. Dinner will be done in an hour.”

A shower does sound nice after her day at work and she nods.

* * *

In Bellamy’s desire to get Clarke out of the kitchen before he does something dumb like sweep everything off the kitchen counter spread her legs and eat her out until Roan in 7C can hear them or worse kiss her, he completely forgets about her present until she’s out of the kitchen.

He catches sight of the box, next to the flowers he gave her that morning.

“Oh fuck!”

He grabs the box and hurries to her room. He could have given it to her at dinner but a part of him was hoping that she would wear it and he would get to see how good it looked around her ankle.

He probably should have remembered that he told her to take a bath, he probably should have knocked.

But he didn’t.

Clarke’s clothes are strewn all over the floor and he can hear the water running. 

"Clarke?" 

The bathroom door opens up a bit and she peers at him, her blonde hair pulled into a loose bun, a few strands framing her face.

He holds up the box, a bashful look on his face.

"Sorry, I just realized I meant to give this to you. I can give it to you once you get out, I guess."

Clarke opens the door wider, stepping out her light blue silk robe clinging to her body, and Bellamy eyes dip to the low neckline of her robe that reveals a lot of her soft pale skin. 

Her eyes, however, are focused on what in Bellamy's hand.

It's a small jewelry box. 

“Bellamy?”

Her heart is pounding for some unknown reason and she licks her lips. 

In all the years she has known Bellamy he has never given her jewelry, he's given her art supplies, books, pajamas, socks, stickers and fake tattoos, a bi flag, a scarf, he's fixed her dad's watch once but he has never held a small jewelry box in his hands. for a brief second she lets herself hope that he will drop to one knee but she shakes her head at the ridiclous thought.

Why would he be proposing? They aren't a couple ? He's not in love with her. They are just friends. 

Bellamy clears his throat, Clarke's got her lip in between her teeth and he wants to tug on the knot of her robe and feel her skin under his fingertips, he wants to tug on her bottom lip and he wants to cup her, wanting to feel how wet she is.

She takes the box from his hand, their fingers brushing and Clarke wonders if this is how Elizabeth Bennett felt when Darcy took her hand, did her heart beat this fast, did she have the urge to profess her love? To profess her secret desire for Darcy? Did she want to beg him to have her there or that just Clarke's desire?

Bellamy runs a hand through his hair, a tad embarrassed, and Clarke decides to put him out of his misery and opens the box and her jaw drops as she carefully pulls out the anklet. 

Clarke looks up, her mouth opening slighlty.

"Oh Bellamy! It's beautiful!"

She laughs as she catches sight of the crown and shakes her head.

"A crown for a princess." 

His voice is soft and Clarke blushes.

"I would ask you to put it on me... but..."

She waves a hand to gesturing to her hair and her robe as if Bellamy could forget the fact that she's standing in front of him in a robe.

Bellamy runs a hand through his hair again, cheeks flushed at the thought of putting the anklet on Clarke, his heart beating quickly at the though of wrapping his hand around her ankle, of pressing a kiss to her ankle, of making his way up her leg, up to her-.

"I should go check on the food. I think I smell something."

He hurries out the door and Clarke places the anklet back in the box lightly and places it on the bed. She doesn't smell anything but the bathbomb but Bellamy is the expert in the kitchen.

* * *

She settles herself into her bath, the warm water soothing her muscles and the smell of her bath bomb filling the room. She moans as she sinks into the water and closes her eyes. This is the perfect way to end her birthday, a nice warm bath, dinner and a movie with Bellamy, maybe a few organsms. 

She knows that she really shouldn’t be thinking of her best friend as she gets herself off but its her birthday so she doesn’t stop herself from sliding a hand up to her breast, palming it while her other hand drifts downward in between her legs. She rubs lazy circle around her clit, teasing herself as she leans her head back. Her hand massages her breast, her thumb and forefinger pinching and tugging on her nipple. 

She closes her eyes and thinks of how nice Bellamy's hands would feel on her skin, the way his rough calluses would drag against her smooth skin, the way his large hands could hold her against the wall or hold her down as he fucks her hard into his mattress. She thinks of his hand wrapped around her ankle, and suddenly she has the image of the anklet Bellamy got her and how good it would thrown over Bellamy's shoulder.

She could picture it, the glint of her anklet catching the light of the room, her hands in his dark soft hair, the way he would look up at her, freckles on his face, lips and nose shiny and wet and Clarke's fingers speed up, she abandons her breast to thrust two fingers into cunt, her other hand rubbing her clit.

Clarke is glad that both the bathroom door is closed and that her room is closed because she can't keep silent, her moans echoing in the bathroom as she gets herself off to the idea of Bellamy fucking her, the anklet he got her thrown over his shoulder.

* * *

Clarke stands in her room naked, debating what to wear. A fancy dress so Bellamy will have to put on a suit? Pajamas so she and Bellamy can cuddle on the couch? Her eyes land on the anklet and she knows that it doesn’t matter what she wears as long as she is wearing the anklet on her ankle.

She places her ankle on the bed and leans foward to fasten the anklet around her ankle. It fits perfectly the metal cold against her warm skin and she shivers. She wonders for a second what Bellamy would do if she walked out of her room with the anklet on and nothing else. She squeezes her thighs together, trying to keep herself in control. 

She tugs on a pair of panties and some black shorts and one of Bellamy’s button up shirts paired with a pink tank top - the button up shirt old and a faded blue but the most comfortable thing she has ever worn and the fact that it's Bellamy is a bonus. . She takes a second to admire herself in the mirror. Her hair is drying into soft messy curls, her blue eyes are brighter, her nipples pebbling under the skimpy tank top and even skipper bralette, Bellamy's shirt brushing the top of her thighs.

* * *

Bellamy’s pouring wine into some glasses and she can see that the Netflix is cued up, ready to go. There are pillows on the floor and the twinkling lights, they are too lazy to take down, have been turned on. It's very romantic.

"Hey."

Bellamy turns toward her, a soft smile on his face that changes as he takes her in and Clarke watches as Bellamy's eyes widen, his eyes raking down her body. 

Clarke feels smug at the look in Bellamy’s eyes when he had seen her enter the kitchen in his button up shirt, skimpy tank top underneath it the lacy strap of her very hot and very impractical light blue bralette. 

He licks his lips and Clarke has to stop herself from pressing her legs together.

"Well?"

She turns around slowly, loving the way his gaze feels heavy on her. She turns back to him and Bellamy's eyes dart back up from where they were looking.  
He slams the wine bottle down on the counter, the sound loud and heavy and echoing in the room and Clarke wants him to slam her against the wall. He makes his way to the couch, setting the glasses on the side table and sits down on the arm of the chair before looking at Clarke.

"I see we are going for a pajama party."

Clarke shrugs, flipping her hair over her shoulder and holds out her ankle to him.

"Just wanted something that would show this off." 

Bellamy's eyes zero in on the anklet and he licks his lips.

He's not sure how he missed the anklet the first time around but he was right, it did look good on Clarke.

Clarke waltzes over to him, her hips swaying and places her ankle on his knee, the hem of her shirt lifting.

"What do you think? Looks good, doesn't it."

Bellamy's hand wraps around her ankle and Clarke bites back a moan at how big his hand is.

"Looks good Princess. I guess you liked your present." 

Clarke removes her ankle from his lap and holds out her arms for a hug and Bellamy pulls her into the space between his legs, wrapping his arms around her tightly and she buries her head into the crook of his neck.

"Best gift ever." 

"Anything for my princess."

_My Princess._

_My._

A part of Clarke wants to purr in agreement, yes she's Bellamy's. 

Bellamy's princess.

Bellamy's girl.

She pulls away to look at him, her head tilted mischievously.

"Well, your princess wants you to get comfortable." 

Bellamy rolls his eyes at her but presses a kiss to her forehead before making his way to his room to change. 

Clarke flops onto the pillows on the floor, proud of how flustered Bellamy had looked.

She knows that he's not into her like that at least he has never made a move on her, but it still makes her panties wet when she sees him look at her, eyes dark and wide. Some days she thinks of what Bellamy would do if she walked around the house naked, or what he could do if she just plopped onto his lap and kissed him. She would never dare test it out but a girl can dream. 

But her smugness goes away when Bellamy enters the kitchen in grey sweatpants and a blue henley, sleeves pushed back. 

Clarke reaches for her wine glasses and takes a huge gulp, trying to cool herself down.

"Slow down."

Clarke jumps and Bellamy shakes his head pulling the wine glass from her hand to pour her some more before heading back to the kitchen to her grab their dinner.

It's nothing fancy but it's a favorite of Clarke's and Bellamy is the one that made it so that automatically makes it the best meal in the world. 

They choose a crime documentary and settles themselves in with their food. 

* * *

The documentary is interesting and the food is delicious and Clarke is able to forget for a bit how hot Bellamy looks and how she really wants to jump his bones.

Bellamy is way too aware of Clarke, her pale legs kicking in the air as she lays on her stomach. They had finished the documentary and had switched over to Criminal Minds, they are on their second wine bottle and Clarke's in her giggly phase, kicking her legs in the air, her anklet catching his attention and he can't stop himself from letting his eyes trail up her legs to her ass.

Maybe its the wine, maybe its the orgasm from earlier, maybe it's because its her birthday but Clarke feels bolder, sexy, desirable.

The epioside they are watching is one she has seen many times and it's not even her favorite and she rolls over, swinging a leg over, the anklet in the air for a second, and Bellamy ducks his head laughing. His laughter dies as he realizes that Clarke is in front of him, legs on either side of him. 

She looks fucking gorgeous.

Legs on either side of him, sprawled out in front of him, tits nearly spilling out of her top, her hair strew around her head, a smirk on her lips.

She pushes herself up to her elbows and his shirt slides off her shoulders and she lifts her leg in the air, anklet glittering. He catched her foot, wrapping his hand over her ankle.

"I love my present, it looks really good."

"I can see that, when I saw the charm I knew it would look perfect, after that making it was a piece of cake."

Clarke's eyes widen and her jaw drops.

"You made this?" She jiggles her foot, she's in awe and is touched by the thoughtful gift, but also the idea of Bellamy making her something this beautiful and this special and the fact that Bellamy currently has her ankle in his hand and she's spread out before him has her horny.

"You made this for me?"

Bellamy's fingers stroke her ankle, "Of course I did."

Clarke closes her eyes, summoning her courage before opening them, her eyes darker, her chest thrusted out more. 

"Well I think that deserves a thank you." 

"It's a present, and seeing you wear it is enough."

"So you wouldn't rather see it dangle over your shoulder?"

Clarke watches as Bellamy makes a choking sound, and feel his hand grips her ankle tighter.

Bellamy tries to form a response but all that comes out is a low, hoarse, "Clarke."

Clarke feeling bolden by his response lays back down and slides a hand to her tit, squeezing it.

"I thought about how good it would look while I was in the bathtub..."

Bellamy watches as Clarke gropes her breast, her back arching up, a low moan spilling from her lips and it hits him, this is not a dream, not a fantasy. This is real.

Clarke Griffin is touching herself in front of him and she thought about how her anklet would look over his shoulder. 

He lifts her ankle towards his mouth and places an open-mouthed kiss on her ankle. 

His eyes meets Clarke's and the blue in her eyes is practically gone, she lifts her hips and he drops her ankle to slide her shorts and panties off.

He parts her legs and groans at the sight of her pink cunt. 

She's fucking equisite. 

He ducks his head, leaning down to kiss her thigh, lucking and sucking a mark onto her thigh.

Clarke's panting in antipication, she's thought about this many times, Bellamy's mouth on her cunt, eating her out. She's thought of how good he would look in between her legs.

And now that moment, that fantasy is about to come true. 

Bellamy winks at her as he lifts her leg over his shoulder and the sight of the silver chain looks so good, like it belonged there. He uses his other hand to spread her even wider. 

"Bell, plea-"

She lets out a loud whine as his tongue finally meets her cunt, licking a stripe down her folds and her hand reaches down to tug on Bellamy's soft curls. 

Bellamy drags his tongue back up toward her clit and Clarke nearly cries as he sucks on her clit, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling a bit and he moans. 

He pulls away to look at her for a second, checking in and Clarke nods.

Then he goes back to work, eating her out. 

Bellamy is in pure heaven. He's thought about this for a while and the feel of her soft thighs around his head, the smell of her arousal, the way she tastes, all pure heaven. The press of her heel on his back, the feel of her anklet digging into his skin, the gift he gave her? Something that he couldn't even picture in his wildest dreams.

Clarke whines and arches her back, curls her toes, pressing her heel into his shoulders as he eats her out, her soft sounds spurring Bellamy on to pick up the pace. In between her moans and his name she's telling him how good he is doing, how good he feels, how much she loves him. 

She plays with her tits, kneading it, twisting and tugging on the nipples, thinking about how good Bellamy's mouth will feel on them later.

Bellamy looks up to see her playing with her tits and he groans, sending vibrations through her pussy. In between her moans and his name she's telling him how good he is doing, how good he feels, how much she loves him. 

She's getting closer and she lets go of her tit so her other hand can tug on his curls. She starts to thrust her hips, riding his face and Bellamy's grip on her is so tight she swears she will have the marks forever. 

Clarke comes with a high pitched whine, her fingers relaxing in his hair as he gently licks her. 

She looks down to see him looking at her her, his chin is shiny and he looks so happy and her anklet does look really good thrown over his shoulder.

"Wanna kiss you."

"One second."

She pouts but then sighs softly, relaxing as Bellamy rubs his hands over the leg that was over his shoulder on the ground, rubbing his hands over it, soothing her sore muscles.

"Feels nice."

He gives her a soft smile and Clarke stretches her arms over and his eyes land in her barely covered tits. 

He can't decide what he wants more: to kiss her or to get his mouth on her tits. 

Clarke laughs, seeing where his eyes are and sits up, “Kiss first then you can play with my tits.”

Bellamy of course obliges her, pulling her into his lap, his hand cradling her face as he kisses her.

Clarke rolls her hips feeling his hard cock through his grey sweatpants.

There’s something hot about her being bottomless in nothing but his shirt and her top and Bellamy being fully clothed.

Bellamy cups her cunt pulling away from her lips to groan into her shoulder, “Fuck, You’re so wet princess.”

Clarke grinds against the heel of his palm as she rides two of his thick fingers, Bellamy’s teeth skimming her collarbone muttering about how wet she is, how good she feels clenching around his fingers, how he loves the whiny needy sounds she makes. She clutched his shoulders, his shirt tight under his hands as she moves rolling her hips riding his fingers. His other hand roam up and down her back, moving down to squeeze her ass. 

"Wanna feel you cum on my cock."

Clarke nods eagerly, she wants that too. She wants to feel full, to feel him split her apart.

They scramble to get his sweatpants off and Clarke wraps her fingers around his cock, pumping him a few times. He's got a few freckles scattered on it and as far as cocks go its pretty but more important its big, thick, the type to split her open and fill her up. 

Clarke lets go of Bellamy's cock and slips her hands inbetween her legs, gathering her juices on her fingers before wrapping her fingers around Bellamy again, coating him with her juices. 

Bellamy curses, "Oh fuck!" his eyes nearly rolling out of his head and he kisses her, messily, teeth clashing.

Bellamy's hands grip her hips as Clarke slowly sinks down onto his cock, her hands on his shoulders, her breathing deep. He presses his forehead against hers, murmuring softly, letting her take her time. 

Her thighs are aching once she's sitting on his lap, his cock in her.

It feels so good, she feels so full. She could quite literally fall alseep like this, his cock in her. 

She nuzzles his jaw and he lets go of her waist to brush some hair off her face.

"You good?"

"So full?"

He thrusts upwards and Clarke moans.

"You like that, being stuffed? My cock in you?

Clarke nods, tears in the corner of her eyes, feeling overwhelmed.

Bellamy rubs his hands down her back, under his shirt soothingly.

"Shhh, its okay baby. I got you. You like that idea- sitting on my cock while you draw? When I grade papers? While we watch a movie?"

Clarke whimpers as he gives another thrust. 

"Another day, okay? Right now I just want you to cum on my cock."

He wipes away a few of the tears on her face and kisses her forehead before slowly helping her move her hips. 

She feels so good riding his cock and its not long before the slow gentle riding turns into Clarke moving faster, bouncing on his cock, tits popping out of her flimsy top and he buries his face int between them, nipping at the tender flesh there before popping her nipple into his mouth and sucking. She threads her fingers through his hair, head tilted back, her back arched, pressing her tits into his face, into his mouth more.

Bellamy switches to her other nipple and his hands slips down to her clit and Clarke's breathing hitches.

She falls apart, slumping over burying her head into his shoulder, and he falls apart with her, spilling inside of her. 

He kisses the side of her forehead, his hands running up and down her back, his shirt is pretty much plastered to her back and her tits are pressed against his chest but he's happy. Clarke hums happily against his collarbone.

"Best birthday ever."

He can feel his cheeks heating up, "Yeah?"

She nods kissing his jaw.

"We should do clean up."

She clenches her cunt around him and he gasps. She pulls away so he can see her pout, her botton lip jutting out.

"Not yet. A little longer like this."

Bellamy groans but wraps his arms around her and scoots down until he's laying down and Clarke stretches her body over him, his cock in her cunt. 

"My back is going to kill me tomorrow."

"That's fine old man, I take care of you tomorrow, do all the work."

He laughs, the vibrations from his chest and his arm around her making her smile and feel safe.

She loves him.

"You know I'm in love with you right?"

Bellamy's hands grip her ass where he was massaging her and then he sighs happily, nuzzling her hair.

"I'm in love with you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
